The Scoop
by 4persephone
Summary: Co-Written with Neon Daisies. Movieverse. "This is probably the biggest story of all three of their lives."


_So...uhm...if you're viewing this, then you're probably at the mansion. I'm guessing that you're sitting at your laptop, though maybe in the basement at one of the consoles. If the later is the case, you are also probably fighting the urge to reorganize my desk. _

_Don't bother to deny it, Pepper, we both know that under enough pressure you've been known to color code your damn paper clips: and don't even try and pretend otherwise. Purple ones are the stuff you think I'll actually find interesting, green needs to be signed and brought back immediately. If there's a red one on the pile that's usually a sign that I need to haul my ass upstairs because you're getting ready to ream me a new one, and it helps to make you coffee._

_Stop pacing and sit down, Pep. I need to talk to you and this time paper clips aren't going to fix this. _

_So yeah, you are watching this file. Which I've tried to re-record like a billion times now, but I gave up on making it perfect. Every time I tried to write something down that make it sound meaningful or official, it just ended up sounding stupid or contrived. _

_I mean let's face it, this is __**me**__ right? I do best when I shoot straight from the hip, so that's what I'm going to try to do here._

_This is really important so I'm going to ask ahead of time for your forgiveness and your patience._

_So where do I start? Well probably with this. Jarvis is under specific orders about when exactly to give you this file, Pepper. I wrote a subroutine I know he'll stick to religiously, so if you get this it'll only be because there's no chance that I'm still alive. I just pray that by the time you get to see this you won't already know, or worse, be waiting for them to bring back my body. _

_If you're getting this message, it means I'm __**dead, **__Pepper. Well dead or so likely dead that there's no point in acting as if there's any other possibility. _

_Stop cussing Pepper. We both know full well that you don't really hate me._

_So here's what I have to say: you will get through this, I promise. You're the strongest person I have ever met, and there's no one that I admire more. There's no one in the world I trust more to pick themselves up, get on with their lives and take care of my legacy._

_Stark Industries is yours now. I'm leaving you nearly everything. The house, the shares, the suit. And no I'm not talking about the Gucci when I say suit either. You know what I mean. Stark Industries has been your baby for years in everything but name. Now all my project files and my stocks in the company are about to become yours in actuality. You're also inheriting all the retainers I hold if you want them, including the legal and financial specialists you've been working with for years now. _

_Unfortunately you're also inheriting the board. I can't do anything about that._

_But don't worry Pepper, you won't be dealing with this alone. Rhodey is getting a message very similar to this one, and I made one last decision anticipating your request. I told him that if he'd be your second you'd share joint responsibility with him for protecting and deciding what to do with the suit. _

_Yes I know you hate me right now, Pepper. You're probably ready to piss on my grave. It was the best that could I do. This way at least you're taken care of, and I know that the company I leave behind with still have the input of someone who'll at least remember how I actually felt about what I created._

_Oh and you won't need to brush up your resume, because as you told me yourself, you absolutely hate job hunting._

_There's just one more thing I need to say before I get into a long string of technical details Pepper. And to be honest it's probably what I should have started out with, even if I didn't know how to. _

_We've been avoiding certain subjects for too long now. I refuse to be dead if I haven't been man enough to say at least once that I was...no I am in love with you._

_Yes, Pepper. I actually said it. It's finally out there in the open._

_Why am I saying it now? Closure I guess. And because I think, whether you ever reciprocated or not, you were at least half aware of the fact. I hope that at least some the time the knowledge of what I felt brought you pleasure instead of frustration or despair._

_I don't regret for a moment that I fell in love with you, and I hope you don't either, not for a single minute..._

_Because loving you might have been the only thing I managed to do right in my whole god-damn life. And I wouldn't change a second of it. Much less a day._

_I love you and I just wanted you to know th..._

She hits the stop button.

There's more of Tony's message of course - twelve minutes by the media player's counter. Not that Pepper Potts listens to any of it. She hits the delete button on the email and sits back in her desk chair instead.

There are a lot of things going through her mind right now: her schedule, the fact that he needs a haircut and a mental side note that she really needs to order a new video camera for the desktop downstairs because its' picture's so damn bad.

She reaches up and pinches about her nose, pushing back the headache that's building behind her eyes.

It's a Friday night, at the end of a week that's frankly been a living hell.

And it hasn't been that because she's spent the last three days in nonstop meetings, she acknowledges. It hasn't been because of rude reporters or late progress reports - though they certainly haven't helped. It hasn't been because her own laptop decided to commit hari-kari in the middle of emptying out Tony's inbox last night.

It's been a miserable week because she and Tony argued on Tuesday night before he left. Because he'd still had a cough and a slight fever and despite all that he'd put on the suit like he could will away pneumonia. They'd fought because S.H.I.E.L.D. had called and of course he had gone and she'd been so tired.

Tired of the blood. Tired of the bruises. Tired of the stoic shit that had become the new norm between them.

He'd told her he was going and she'd literally exploded.

'He's gonna end up dead. Because of the missions, because of me.' She just can't bear to spend another moment ignoring the elephant leaving piles of crap all over the living room floor. When he gets back she's going to patch him up and then she's going shove a copy of this video file down his throat and bang his head against the floor.

So she's in love with Tony Stark, and he's in love with her. Big frickin' whoop at this particular moment.

It doesn't make her want to kill him any less.

"Stupid, arrogant, presumptive asshole..." The man who never thinks anything through would have to have this particular epiphany. After all this is Tony, who constantly speaks without thinking - Tony who _would_ think to set up and leave her a goodbye message because he thinks it's_ noble _and he's _dumb_ enough to think she doesn't know where his heart lies.

Tony who is out there and flying and _alive_, because she'd _know_ if he wasn't. Because she would know.

Tony who's going to be in the doghouse with her for at least a month when he finally drags his metal butt home.

Anthony Stark is alive. She's absolutely sure of it, and she doesn't care if he's been out of comm range for more than forty-eight hours. Well okay, she does care, but only because when he gets home she is going to grab him and probably shake him by his testes. The man is just such an idiot, and there are days she simply can't _bear_ it, and today is one of those days, quite absolutely..

Because while he's off flying one of his missions she's got to shave her damn legs, put on a new pair of nylons and go host _his_ god-damn party.

And just for the record, the new six thousand dollar pair of shoes that he'd had delivered this morning don't make it better. Because even if he did order them a month ahead in secret (how did he manage without her knowing?) they're still only shoes: bits of leather and wood and steel are not an acceptable apology.

He's going to have to come up with better than that after what he's done. He doesn't get to change and then force her to watch him die.

He doesn't get to say that he loves her when she can never say it back. Especially through a damn impersonal machine.

The shoes are at her feet; they're sleek and elegant. They're beautiful, she acknowledges as she takes off her Jimmy Choos and slips them on. Tony has excellent taste in footwear, and he got them in a neutral color that will actually match her gown.

She's going to wear them to the party. And then when he gets home she intends to use them to punch holes in his head.

She hasn't decided yet whether she intends to kiss or kill him after.

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"Sir, I don't wish to alarm you, but you were out of communications contact for nearly fifty-six hours."

Tony Stark winces as Jarvis pulls free the last of the over armor, allowing him to step off the platform a little stiffly. "Lovely. I already knew that, Old Man. Is Pepper still here this evening? Or has she left for home already?"

Despite the fact it's Friday night he's desperately praying for the former.

He's bone tired at the moment but after twelve straight hours in combat, he needs to see her. And he doesn't care at this point if she's still pissed at him or not.

He's home and he wants the comfort of her face.

Jarvis meanwhile, is continuing to speak. "I'm not sure you realize the ramifications of what I'm saying, Sir. Let me clarify. May I remind you that last month you left specific instructions for the delivery of a certain video message to Ms. Potts if you lost contact with me for greater than a forty-eight hour period?"

Tony pauses in the middle if stripping of his latex under socks. "Excuse me? Are you talking about 'the goodbye message' Jarvis, because what I told you to do was to send it at hour eighty-four."

"The instructions you programmed into my database say forty-eight hours, Sir." Jarvis pulls up the file in question and displays it on the nearest monitor.

Tony bends over to look at the screen, and feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end. He checks his watches confirming both the date and time. The code he wrote does specify forty-eight. It's currently hour 99...

Maybe it's not too late, he thinks a little desperately. Maybe he's not going to have to deal with an enraged Pepper Potts right now at this very moment. Maybe - "Jarvis, has Pepper actually seen the message yet?" He prays very hard, but those prayers seem to be in vain.

"Seventeen hours ago, Sir." The AI pauses. "Sir, your second message has not yet been delivered to Colonel Rhodes. I'm afraid he's out of the country on assignment for another two days so was unable to receive it."

"Hack his account and delete it," Tony orders. He starts to stride towards the stairs to the upper level, but quickly stalls out as his ribs protest. He doesn't know where she is. Finding out is definitely his first priority.

"Jarvis, can you locate Ms. Potts for me?" 'Shit, shit, shit.' This is bad. This is worse than bad, this is catastrophic.

This is the kind of life-alteringly bad that just might be unrecoverable. Pepper is going to kill him. Or worse yet, Pepper is probably just going to quit.

"Jarvis..." He barks the command again desperately. "I need to know where she is right away..."

"One moment Sir, I am consulting her date book and tracking the emergency GPS chip you installed in her Blackberry... Ms. Potts is currently attending the children's hospital benefit at Castle Green in Pasadena. On a side note UPS confirms that the shoes you ordered for her were delivered to her at her home at 8 am today."

He blinks at that a moment. "She went to a party?" The shoes he acknowledges in the very back portion of his mind. They'd been meant as a thank you of sorts for all the chaos she'd been dealing with lately.

The last month and a half has been...well frankly, hell. With more sleepless nights then not, and them almost never seeing each other.

And when they do? He shudders in genuine distress. He doesn't know whether Pepper Potts is coming or going half the time anymore. Sometimes he thinks she's on the verge of kissing him. The rest of the time he's not even sure she knows he exists...

But still... She gets a message that he's either dead or so likely dead there's no point in holding out hope, and she goes to a party?!

That leaves two possibilities in his mind: total apathy to the news, or total denial. "Jarvis, get Ms. Potts on the phone _now._" Regardless of which it is he's not sure he can live with either option.

"I have been trying to inform her of your return since you first entered comm range, Sir, but I am afraid that all I am getting is an immediate ring through to her voice mail."

'Which means the phone's either off or she's at somewhere with poor reception.' This could be a good thing, because with Rhodey gone she's had no one for company.

She been alone for up to seventeen hours with nothing but that video playing in her head.

"Jarvis, how many times did she watch the message I set up?" He's trying desperately to get an idea of her current mental state

"She watched approximately half of it once before she turned it off, Sir. She seemed...most upset."

Tony's heart stops for a moment, then starts beating so hard that it actually hurts. "Was she crying?" he asks softly, unsure if he can live with causing her pain like that unnecessarily.

"No, Sir. Perhaps 'upset' is the wrong term. To use the common vernacular, she seemed extremely 'pissed.'"

He blinks a couple times at that information. 'Well at least it wasn't apathy.' "Did she..." He pauses. "Did she do or say anything in response when she saw it?"

"No, Sir. She sat for a few minutes in front of the computer, and then gathered her things and left."

"You let her leave immediately after watching that!?" He says the words in near disbelief. "Where did she go? Did you at least track her phone after to make sure she got back home safe?"

"She returned to her home, sir. Approximately four hours later she left to attend the benefit I mentioned before. Thanks to several emergency meetings convened this week, Ms. Potts didn't receive your message until this afternoon."

The AI pauses. "Sir, I'm remiss. Before returning to her home, she also stopped at what MapQuest is informing me is a hair salon. Probably to prepare before putting on her dress..."

'Definitely denial.' She had to have gone from shock straight to anger then most likely bounced back to calmness all in the span of just a few hours.

"Jarvis, call up Happy. It seems I'm making an appearance at a benefit tonight." Tony walks towards the elevator rather than the stairs, wincing as his ribs protested each step.

"Sir, you have not yet done your usual post mission scans. Nor have you submitted you mission debriefing. Nick Fury will strenuously protest..."

"Nick Fury can go to hell." Right now all he's worried about is Pepper and what's going to happen once the truth finally sinks in. After this gigantic screw up, the last thing she needs is to fall apart in public. She'll never forgive him. But he also can't bring himself to let her believe he's gone for a moment longer than he can avoid.

He reaches the top floor and heads for the bathroom, stripping off his clothing as he goes. "Jarvis, MapQuest me the quickest route to the benefit. And set the robots to basic cleaning of the suit." He steps into the shower, hoping that Happy won't have much objection when he orders him to speed.

"Sir, might I recommend you allow me to perform the usual scans first? Your current posture indicates that you are at less than 70 percent of your usual mobility. Such findings seem to indicate a severe amount of trauma."

"I'm fine," he snaps a little harshly. "If you want to be off actual help then pull up the schedule for me. I want all appointments cleared for the next seventy-two hours at minimum."

He doesn't know if that will be long enough to put things right, but at least she'll have a few days of total privacy.

Five minutes later he steps over to the mirror, wiping of the surface so he can see to trim his goatee. He's indescribably grateful that the damage this time has been kept primarily on his chest and not on his face. His plan is to get Pepper worried about him, but not panicked. And then he can get her to leave the benefit so he can explain himself. Hopefully she'll be so relieved to have him back that she won't actually give him crap over any of the stunts he's pulled in the last few days.

It's a risky plan, he acknowledges softly. He prays to god that he can encounter her quietly. Maybe he'll tip a server to bring her a note that there's a business contact waiting in one of the wings.

He's a little bit wary of their first meeting being public, because he's not sure how she's going to react to him just walking in.

Though, how bad could that be? His Pepper Potts is the epitome of professionalism. Certainly she can manage to make it out of the public eye before making a scene.

Can't she?

All bets will be off once they got to the limo however. He's half expecting that she will attempt to reach across the mini-fridge and strangle him.

He makes a mental note as he fastens his bow tie to get his chauffer some earplugs.

Someone at least in this mess deserves mercy.

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Every time someone asks her where Tony Stark is and every time Pepper has to recite the excuse she's crafted, she gets more and more pissed off. Because it's an awful excuse, and a crappy lie, and all of her 'knowing' that he isn't dead isn't going to be worth anything tomorrow if it turns out he_ is _dead.

Because for all her certainty that Tony isn't dead, Pepper _isn't_ certain.

But she's made excuses for him for years now, and the smile and the graciousness of her lies are flawless and from looking at her no one would ever know that her world is teeter-tottering between being consumed by fiery rage and cold despair. She circulates through the crowd, making a point to discretely seek out every person that Tony should of spoken to if he'd been there. Most of them are relieved to see her, since anything they would have said to Tony would have ended up being communicated to her later by phone or e-mail and this does save a stop in the chain of command.

The woman with the ear of the man, she hears one older businessman comment as she turns to start her next circuit of the room and she just thinks, 'If only you knew.'

A group of her peers stop her as she circles towards the open bar. Most of them are PAs to the heads of various other departments, and they all laugh and smile and tell her to take a break. It's not like she's officially on the clock or as if her boss is here to look over her shoulder after all.

"One drink," Majorie Welks bribes, holding out a martini glass. "Come on."

It's not even a particularly good martini, Pepper acknowledges glumly, but Marjorie is an old friend and she is subtly concerned. "Are you all right, Ginny?" she whispers in her ear as they trade a gentle greeting hug.

"Just tired," she whispers back as she takes the glass that's offered. The moisture does feel good against her tongue.

Maybe a drink isn't such a bad idea after all.

"Understandable," Marjorie observes with a raised brow. "You've been working the room like you've been possessed by your boss's spirit. The only difference is you haven't picked up a single date yet."

She shudders at the connotation. "Not funny, Welks. And I'm sorry he's not here, I know I said I'd introduce him tonight."

"Next time we're all in the same room, no excuses." Marjorie wags a finger at her. "Next time, with no exceptions is all I can say."

"I promise," Pepper agrees, because at this point there's nothing else a woman in her position can do.

To she sits there are tries to look normal. Finishes her martini and considers getting another. Before she can get one though, Amy Close makes the observation, "Hey, Bono must have just arrived or something."

The entire group turns to look at the doorway. There's a fervor of motion and voices by the entrance to the ballroom. Pepper's heart starts to sink at the same time the pressure in her chest she'd been ignoring starts to ease.

Then enough of the crowd grows disinterested and they can see the new arrival.

Tony Stark. Smiling and shaking hands and looking too smooth in an absolutely perfect tux and tousled hair. He looks like he's just strolled in from a weekend in Maui.

"I thought you said he wasn't going to be here?" Everyone turns to look at her at once and Pepper just tries to shrug it off as the blast of relief that goes through her is overcome by fury.

He's fine?!

How dare he be fine!

Her hands curl into fists at her side, and she wonders if her face is getting as red as her hair.

_"So? "_ Marjorie looks over and raises an eyebrow. "Talk about fortuitous circumstance!" Her friend grabs her by the hand intending to pull her in that direction.

And Pepper realizes that she has to stop her. Because if she doesn't then Anthony Stark's groin is going to have a very public, very painful impromptu meeting with her twitchy knee.

"He just got here," Pepper objects, digging in her heels. "He's mobbed. Give things a chance to die down." She moves further back into the group and places herself so that her back is solidly placed towards the door. With any luck, Tony will ignore her.

'Since when has he ever not ignored you?' something in her whispers sardonically. 'It's not as if you have reason to deserve more of his attention at the moment, not with a open bar and a room full of flattering men and amorous ladies...'

But that's what she wants. As much as she wants to go over and grab him by the ear and march him off somewhere where she can express herself at full volume, she knows she can't. There's already enough interest in Tony, and through Tony in her that the last thing she needs to do is make some sort of scene. So as much as she's spoiling for a good fight, she's going to stay put and out of his way.

Or that's her intention: only Marjorie抯 not to be convinced. Her friend is intent on meeting Tony. And since she's five foot eleven and an amateur basketball player Pepper can no more resist her strength than she can apparently avoid this confrontation with Tony.

"What is with you tonight?" Marjorie finally asks in exasperation. "What did the two of you have a fight or something?"

"I haven't seen him in almost four days, Marj. When would there have been time?"

They pause halfway down the bar and Marjorie leans in close. "Then what is _up_? You're acting like you two have something going on. Which you keep reassuring anyone who will listen that you don't."

Pepper grabs a martini and quickly downs half of it. "You're right. We don't."

Marj raises and eyebrow. "Virginia, what's going on? I haven't seen you this secretly pissy since you caught David cheating on you in college."

"I don't want to talk about it," she grits out.

"David?" A familiar man's voice speaks from behind her. "Okay you're definitely going to have to tell this story to me."

'Like hell' Pepper turns around, her social smile pasted on her face. "Tony."

Her smile is sharp and brittle and her eyes are glittering oddly. There's not an inch of her that isn't tense and Tony's half afraid she's going to break the glass in her hand. Instead she takes a sip. "I thought you said you weren't going to _'make it'_...to the party."

The man is front of her is impeccable. Perfectly pressed and as arrogant as ever. Only someone who has any idea how he operates under pressure knows the truth.

He's as close to sheepish as Tony Stark gets.

"Yes well, my schedule kind of changed...as did yours from what I can see. I had thought you might be distracted by other matters tonight. Both of us apparently wrapped things up early." He looks her up and down for a good long minute, then raises a hand to briefly rub the back of his neck. "Pepper...ah...we need to talk about an email server glitch. I'm afraid Jarvis may have confused what I had assumed were explicit instructions and delivered a certain piece of mail a little...earlier than I had intended."

His eyes are apologetic, but he doesn't say the one thing that might make this forgivable, and her temper flares in the absence of the simple words "I'm sorry."

So she takes another gulp of her drink. The alcohol burns, but then she's on fire too. "Of course, Mr. Stark. Don't worry about it. As had been amply demonstrated, I _live_ to clean up your messes. You never know when something might be a matter of life or _death_." Pepper hands off her empty martini glass to a waiter and picks a full one off his tray at the same time. Tony watches the action with more then a little trepidation.

"Ms Potts, that's the second one you've picked up in under twenty minutes. I suggest you tone it down a little, and leave the binge drinking to those of us with the long term experience."

"Fine." For a moment he thinks she might actually throw it in his face. Her shoulder twitches back as if she intends to. But in the end she just spills a little over his hand as she roughly hands it off to him. "You're a model boss, aren't you, Mr. Stark? Always looking out for your employees. You're such a caring and concerned guy."

She is losing it. She knows she is losing it. But unfortunately she can't seem to_ stop_.

"Pepper...?" She hears a slightly horrified squeak from Marjorie.

Her old friend isn't the only one who's noticing her unusual behavior either. The group of her coworkers she'd been talking to before he interrupted are all starting to edge away. Tony recognizes a few of them - women she eats lunch with when they're at the office mainly. They're people who actually know her, and who have a pretty good insight into how the two of them usually interact.

It's no wonder they're all looking uncomfortable. This is completely out of Pepper's norm.

And for the first time since he got here, he wonders if this was the right approach. Maybe he _should_ have just called up from the mansion and left her a message requesting that she come back.

It's too late for that though. The damage has already been done. All he can do for now is try and mop up as best he can. He takes a moment to size up the situation - sees her perfectly immaculate makeup and the neatly coiffed hair. Her dress is tasteful and well cut, though nothing like the gown he'd seen her wear at the fireman's benefit. _This_ Virginia Potts though is here for one reason, because this is her job, and because heaven forbid she not do it.

She is far from in a good mood though. She is _furious_ and, unless he misses his guess, hanging onto her composure by the tips of her fingernails.

And he knows for a fact that with the exception of himself, virtually _no one _else in this room has ever seen the elemental Pepper Potts. This is the woman he admires most, although he is also unafraid to admit he fears her a little.

Because Pepper only let her full temper out when she is either desperate or _exceptionally_ angry.

'She's both right now, judging by the look on her face.' Judging by her posture, which is so stiff it hurts to look at her. "Don't be shy, Mr. Stark," Pepper says. the taunt in her words isn't even hidden anymore. "I know how much you _love_ to find ways to -" She breaks off as Tony steps into her personal space.

He doesn't look angry, but there's an air about him that tells her he's had just about enough of her barbs. "I'm sorry, was it something I said?"

He leans forward, whispering sternly, "We're going to take a _walk_, Pepper. Now nod and smile for all your colleagues, to whom you _don't_ want to have to explain all this to later. You want your pound of flesh? I suppose you're entitled to it. But we're damn well going somewhere _private_ because while you are pissed, I am still in control enough to care about _your_ privacy."

And then he walks several steps before he holds out a hand.

Pepper does as he tells her, but her smile is obviously fake and there's something in the way she nods her head that implies defiance, like she's a horse fighting its reins. Still she takes his outstretched hand, following him with staccato heel clicks across the room and out onto one of the balconies.

Across the room a certain blonde raises an eyebrow...tilting her head to the retreating couple as she twirls around the floor with her dancing partner. "Over to the other side please, Geoff...I'm ready for some wine." What she's ready for is to be done with him stepping on her toes.

Geoffry Gamble is a decent contact, but his conversational skills leave a lot to be desired and if there's anything Christine Everhart takes pride in, it's the fact the her palms literally start to_ itch _whenever a good story is brewing.

Since their night together all those months ago, she's made a habit of keeping an eye on Tony Stark and despite what some people may think, it's not because she's become another notch on his bedpost. She knew his reputation going in, and she's not stupid enough to think that any tiger can actually change it's stripes.

But she's a tiger herself, or she fancies herself to be. And she doesn't mind getting the claws out when it means a potential hit story.

That article beckons her tonight: how can anyone miss the aggression flowing between those two, even from a room away much less up close and personal... Pepper Potts has been the most constant thing in Tony Stark's life for a good part of a decade now. A rift between the two is nearly as attention worthy as a divorce between two movie stars...and possibly just as acrimonious. God, the kind of dirt Potts must have on Stark after all these years... Christine ignores the irony that she herself is a particle of that dirt.

Let no one stand between a man and his secretary. Particularly when that P.A. is Virginia Potts, who Christine had learned the hard way, cannot be overlooked.

She has got to get closer to this. Especially if the long-term relationship goes belly up in public tonight. It's the kind of situation two-thirds of the reporters in LA would give their firstborn to scoop. For the first time in almost five years she regrets one of her former actions, because the way she and Ms Potts last meeting went may actually not been one of her shrewder moves.

She'd let her personal reactions momentarily take sway over her wiser woman's sense. That sense was the one that now told her that she and Pepper Potts were very similar sorts, and could be very good allies if the woman's reputation was to be taken seriously.

Christine wonders if telling Pepper (untruthfully) that Tony Stark is a lousy fuck is the best way to get in the door.

She'll just play the situation by ear, she supposes.

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The moment they're outside, Pepper distances herself from Tony. She puts as much space as possible between them, stopping only when he takes a step in her direction. She's almost glad he insisted they come out here, because now at least she can drop the mask she was choking behind and allow herself to be as furious as she wants to be. "How _dare_ you," she hisses at him. There's no question about what she means. He's already implied that he knows Jarvis showed her his good-bye message and she sees no reason in dodging the matter.

It'll only keep them out here longer and right now being in his presence is almost physically painful because she's so mad. She wants this confrontation over with, and then she wants to go home. She plans to get very, very drunk when she does. And then she'll start putting herself back together to get up the following morning and go back to work as if nothing has changed.

"How dare I what? Leave a proper goodbye? Somebody has to, Pepper. It's the world we're living in now." His voice is calm, but his eyes are pained. "It was necessary. Maybe it wasn't _easy_ but it was still the truth, and it needed to be said. We've made a habit of keeping certain secrets, but after awhile those things held back seem like lies.? His fist tighten at his sides. "All that considered, it was not the way I wanted to you find out that I've fallen in love with you, and for that I really am sorry. I should have started with that first and followed with all the rest."

And that makes her blood boil, because she isn't ready to _deal_ with the rest. Isn't ready to deal with being left with his house, his shares, his _company_. All that without him? She's already walked that road, and she knows enough now to realize she wants no part of it alone.

Yes, she understands that he trusts her to protect his legacy, but at the moment she refuses to consider it anything but cowardice that he shows no similar concern for the stake she has in his living, breathing _life._

"I am sick of you always thinking that my only function in all of this is to clean up the messes that you're so determined to leave behind. It is not my job to live your life for you, Anthony Stark. It has never been and it will never be. So stop treating me like your widow when I'm not even your wife."

That shocks them both into complete silence. Something twitches in his jaw and her temple starts to throb. She wonders how much she just gave away with that comment, and she wonders how much it is going to take for her to erase the connotations from what is now the literal forefront of his memory.

She wants to take the words back, to have said anything else. But the genie is out of the bottle, and there's no going back. Before she can flee Tony steps forward into her space, bending over to deliver a hard but pointed kiss right to her lips. "You're right, Pepper. You _aren't_ my wife..."

His expression doesn't hide the fact that he clearly thinks that she should be.

She wants to slap him and actually tries to, but he's too close and he stops her with ease. And trapped, she lashes out verbally. "You're a coward; why would I bind myself to that?" she accuses him bitterly. "If you think that's a decent proposal, Tony, then you're even more of an asshole than I previously assumed. How _dare_ you tell me you love me in a video that was only supposed to be played in the event of your death?!"

She laughs disbelievingly, shaking her head. "I mean...was it supposed to make me feel better or something? 'Oh gee, Tony died but at least he thought enough of me to admit that he's loved me for awhile now, and though that means we wasted months, or possibly even years when we _could_ have been together, at least I know what he really felt?'" She tries to shove away from him, but he doesn't let her and she reacts by becoming even more cruel. "If that's your version of love, Tony, _I don't want it_. And if the only way you can tell me is in a way where you'd never have to face the consequences, forgive me if I don't believe you."

He shakes her by the wrists, not enough to really hurt, but now she knows that she's not the only one getting angry.

"And what make you think I never had any intention of telling you in person?! Last resort is just that, Potts. Last Resort. You were only meant to see it if something happened before I had a chance to tell you!" He's shaking hard, trying to regulate his breathing. "I've been trying to find the words for weeks, Pepper. There was never a chance. Besides, even if I found a way to state it cleanly, you would never have _allowed me the chance!_"

"I didn't..." The words are a protest, but he cuts her off with steadily mounting frustration. "Who's the one who's been keeping their distance, Pepper? Who five days out of ten makes up excuses to not even sit and have a cup of coffee?!" There are porcupines more friendly than her lately, and he doesn't believe for a moment that she's not aware of it.

"Five days out of ten I'm trying to keep your business and your ass afloat, Tony. Forgive me if it doesn't leave me much time to relax. Ironman is one _hell_ of a tightrope to walk, and if you fall off there's nothing to stop you from going splat on the asphalt below..."

And she can't watch it happen. She simply refuses to.

"Then let me hire you _help_, like I've been offering to for weeks. Because you're not superwoman by God, and everyone has their limits. I'm at least _aware _I'm walking on a wire. You on the other hand, are so busy looking down you won't even look at what's right in front of you."

If anything, his offer only riles her up more. "No! It's no one else's_ business_," she snaps. "It's bad enough dancing around you. I am sure as hell not going to start pussyfooting around someone else who you ought to know has no right to be in the middle of this mess!"

"No _right_? Now who's in denial? And they say _I _have problems with jealousy? I'm obviously learning from the top of the class." He leans forward into her face, "Here's a tip, Potts: _having_ my ass could be a whole lot more satisfying than riding it." He shakes his head. "Don't try and tell me you're not where you are by choice. You're just as fucked up and co-dependent about this as me."

Now she's glad he's kept her close because it keeps him within range. "The reason I'm on this path is not because I'm fucked up but because you'll fuck anything attached to a pussy and a nice pair of tits. If one cup of coffee a week is what it takes to make me different, then I'll take it."

He laughs, albeit bitterly. "Have you ever wondered, Pepper, why you're so damn desperate to believe I'm incapable of change?" He leans forward and looks right in her eyes. "It's been more than six months, Pepper. And my bed is _still empty_. The only one who seems unaware of that fact is the woman who_ should_ actually be in it."

He's right and God...Pepper's just so tired of the fighting. He's _alive_, and she's taking his head off for showing some modicum of emotional intelligence. And it isn't fair. Because yes, she's pissed because he'd tried to leave her a video as a replacement of something that should be said in person, but ripping at him like this only makes her feel worse. And then she blames him when she does. So she forces herself to step back, to regain control over her emotions and her tongue.

It's _hard_. She _wants_ to rip into him for everything she's gone through in the past two days. She's an adult, though, capable of adult conversations and adult behaviors. And destroying them won't relieve the pain in the end, it will only leave more clean up to be done. She's so tired of being a maid to him, she's not going to start making more messes herself. So instead of reacting to his words with the first vicious thing to come to her mind, Pepper bends just a little. "Maybe I need more than six months, Tony. Just because you're ready to risk everything doesn't mean I am. The world has changed enough as it is this year already."

The words are tense, and irritated, and defensive. Despite her best intentions, it's not so easy to get the genie back into the bottle and she knows she's probably going to stay pissed off for days still. But she's trying, and she can only pray that the man in front of her sees that and somehow finds it in himself to step back from the head on collision.

"Understood." Tony moves away by several feet and inhales deeply, turning to face the railing. His voice goes from confrontation to exhausted. "Believe it or not Pepper, I didn't come here looking for a fight. I came here because I was frightened for you." He sets his palms on the railing and leans on it in a way that only those who actually know him would realize is far, far too heavily.

And for the first time since he'd entered the room she finally registers more than her own anger.

"Tony, what's wrong?" Her heels ring out against the floor as she strides over to him. Her hands reach out as if she's going to physically examine him before they stop short and fall back to her sides. She sees the way that he's sweating and the way that even when she calls his name, he doesn't turn around. "Look, I'm sorry that I chewed you out...to be honest the relief was just fueling everything else...until now." The words come out sounding distracted. She's completely focused on the way he's leaning against the rail, leaning most of his weight away from the right side of his body. "Tony, talk to me. You're scaring me here."

He straightens up, or tries to at least. "It's nothing...just a little bruising. I think I cracked a couple of ribs while I was out." He shrugs. "And when I got back to the house I didn't stick around long enough for Jarvis to_ treat _me." And then he starts to cough and the resulting gurgle is not even close to reassuring. She has to step forward to brace him when the involuntary action nearly forces him to drop to his knees. When her hands come up to grip him by the waist, though, he actually howls in protest.

"You're an idiot," she hisses at him as he tries to pull back. She growls in warning, trapping him before he can make any kind of retreat. Then she quickly loosens his tie and reaches for the buttons of his tuxedo jacket. "You should probably be in a hospital right now, not standing here - or _trying_ to stand here - talking to me." Her fingers are shaking but she gets the buttons undone. And she doesn't need to do more than open it to see the red spots that are seeping through his shirt along his right side. "I take it back. You're not an idiot, you're a _fucking_ idiot."

His skin below his ribcage is black...the blackest she's ever seen, and the swelling is so bad that one side of his abdomen is starting to become almost rigid. He has several long scrapes that are deep and a fiery red.

Tony only hisses in protest as he attempts to tuck back in the shirt she just tugged out of his waist band. "You thought I was off on a suicide mission, Pepper. What, did you expected me to do: call you up, tell you I'd changed my mind and then ask you out for coffee?" He sucks in a breath and coughs again. "Look, just stop beating my ass for five seconds and let me regroup a little. Go and find Happy and get a car brought around. Please. Because right now I'm thinking home is a good idea.

Home her _ass_, he is going to a_ hospital_. "Idiot, idiot, idiot," she hisses under her breath. "I have a _cell phone_, Tony. And Jarvis obviously knew where I was if _you_ knew to get dressed like this. And if you can't stop risking your life without _reason_, then what else am I supposed to do but keep at a distance from you? You say you're not suicidal? Fine, start showing some _sense_..." And then she's kissing him before he can answer, and she's crying a little because how can she not when he so obviously puts her above even his own health and safety, and she's touching the only part of his body that isn't bruised - his face - and stroking his skin with the tips of her fingers.

"If I thought you were dead or suicidal, would I really go to a _party_?" she asks him. "Honestly, do you really think I'm that obsessed with my work? If I'd thought you were actively in that much trouble, I'd have called up Rhodey or Nick Fury and sent them out after your miserable ass. And then I've have waited until they brought you home so I could _kill you_."

This time she consciously kisses him with the intent of keeping him from replying because his presence here is all the answer she needs. And it's more than a little insulting even as it's also the most macho-ly _stupid_ act of caring she's ever experienced. Tony groans, first in appreciation, then in what can only be called far more literal agony. "Lecture me later, Potts. There will me plenty of opportunity In the meantime, though, for God's sake, go get Happy, before I fall on my _face_."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you came up here," she snaps at him, out of concern, out of irritation, out of the anger she hasn't been able to fully dismiss. But she does do her best to settle him against the corner of the balcony before hurrying back indoors.

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The ballroom is just as she left it: loud, crowded and full of dancing people. She flips open her cell phone and starts with brisk, aggressive strides toward the main entry's door. She's about halfway there and when she realizes she has no signal. "O for the love of _God_..." she hisses under her breath. She's working for the most technologically advanced company in the world, and now she's being sabotaged by her Blackberry at the worst possible time.

She knows that Happy will likely be down in the limo as he always is, but she'll be damned if she'll leave Tony alone that long to take care of himself when he's that pale and clammy.

"Take care of himself, my _ass_," she mutters with a full mote of rancor. "Forget a week, he's be lucky to last a full two days without utter catastrophe." She seriously needs to put the man on some kind of leash, even if it is just of an electronic variety.

"Tell me what you really think," comes a voice from beside her, as suddenly her way through the crowd is blocked by a woman dressed in a tall sheath of dark green. It takes her just a moment to put a name to the face. Vanity Fair. Christine Everhart. The woman is obviously amused; there's a sickening smirk on her face.

Well if it isn't Little Miss 'Still has you picking up the dry cleaning' herself. "I'm not sure what I really think is suitable for print," Pepper says as she tries to sidestep the woman. She needs to find a server to go find Happy. A couple hundred dollar tip should get the staff's silent help, and Happy upstairs in a reasonable amount of time.

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. Just for once wouldn't you like to step out from behind his shadow and actually be seen?" Pepper raises an eyebrow at that, but Everhart is relentless. "I insulted you once, Potts, and I've come to regret it. Please, at least let me make amends. I just want to buy you a drink."

"This is an open bar. Drinks are free." The other woman's eyes narrow, and Pepper chews her lip in irritation. She hadn't meant to come off as confrontational, but she's in a hurry, and she's terrified for Tony.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't have time. I'm on the clock, and right now my employer needs me." Again Everhart moves with her as Pepper tries to step around her. "Alright, if you don't get out of my way, your next big headline is going to be 'Tony Stark's Personal Assistant Takes Down Reporter.'"

Christine raises an eyebrow. "A little over-reactive don't you think? Seriously Potts, give me five minutes. I mean let's face it, he's not going to die if he's denied a mere five minutes of your company. He'll probably be french-kissing his next conquest by the time you get back."

"I don't have time for this." Christine moves with her again, and for a moment Pepper thinks that the whole world has literally shorted out in the pure rush of anger. But before she can raise a fist she realizes the lights are actually out, and less than a second later, she knows exactly why. The ballroom begins to _shake_ as people call out in panic.

She fights to keep her balance amid what has to be a major tremor. 'Tony.' She's left him out on a balcony, almost incapable of walking. "Oh my god." Her ankle twinges as she stumbles out her heels because the tremor is just getting _stronger_, and she needs to get across the room _now._

She pulls up her skirt and starts stumbling across the floor when everything goes just as suddenly still.

There's about a second of stunned silence before people start talking to each other in a mad rush as they take in the devastation...food tables have been knocked to the floor and there's glass from splintered goblets everywhere. That's when the second tremor hits. And this one makes the first one look mild - the ground drops out from under her feet for several terrifying seconds, before she's physically sliding and then slammed against a concrete surface.

She doesn't pass out, but when the shaking finally stops, she looks around. And when the lights come back, she knows exactly what hell looks like.

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The emergency generators have kicked in. That's the first rational thought to penetrate the numb shock in her mind. Somewhere there are emergency generators and they've come on, and what emergency lights that weren't broken have activated. Right now the air is so full of dust that she can't see more than a few feet in front of her. As if noticing the dust has make it exist, she starts coughing and gasping to get the silt out of her lungs. She places a hand over her mouth in an effort to filter the air and it helps a little, enough to stop the explosive shocks.

That's enough to draw her attention to the rest of her body.

Carefully she pulls herself into a sitting position. One elbow stings as if it's been skinned, and her right ankle throbs but the pain doesn't increase when she rotates it, so it's obviously not broken. Other than that she seems to be fine. Well, other than the fact her entire body aches like she's been dropped onto pavement from a considerable height - which she has in essence - and the hot trickle running down the side of her face.

She is functional, though, so she slowly gets to her feet. Or tries to at least - the ground under her is loose and shifts under her weight, immediately sending her back down.

"Ow." A piece of floor digs painfully into the back of her thigh. She shifts until her back hits something, and then she stays there until it's safe to move again.

Gradually more dust settles allowing her to see more of the room. And she turns to one side and vomits involuntarily as she finally sees what's less than ten feet away. Mary Collins. RP of Marketing. Pepper remembers her as a woman with an easy going smile and a preference for hand-ground Columbian coffee.

The woman's eyes are wide open in shock, and the better half of her right leg is lying several feet away sheered off by a large jagged beam. Death was probably painless and nearly instantaneous, Pepper is guessing, judging by the sheer amount of blood that is coating the floor.

But still it is the worst thing that Virginia Potts has ever prayed she'd never see.

'Breathe in, Pepper. Then breathe out. That's it Potts, keep breathing, I know it hurts...but don't make me fire you for going into shock. No, no...don't look over there yet. The ambulance is coming, just keep your eyes focused on my face.'

Somewhere inside her head amidst the screaming, another voice is taking root. A familiar dialogue from a day now years in the past. Another day of blood and pain and bone sticking out through badly ripped flesh.

1998. Her second year working at the mansion. She'd been carrying something down to his lab when her feet had simply gone out from under her, and she'd gone face first down the staircase. 'Greasy rag,' echoes back his voice inside her mind. 'And way more boxes than a reasonable woman in high heels should have been carrying.'

It was the last time she'd ever seen Tony leave something unattended on the staircase. It was also the year he'd installed the elevator. He'd had to after she'd broken her right leg in two separate places, one break so bad she'd need two hours of surgery.

He'd been there at the foot of the stairs before she could even register falling, and it had his voice, calm and smooth that had kept her in control and awake. She suspects that it was probably the day that she'd first started loving him.

What she is seeing now is worse than her own injury that day. A thousand times worse, yet somehow his calm voice is still echoing in her head. 'Breathe in and breathe out, Potts. Don't forget you need oxygen. Come on now, Ms Potts; you have never seemed like the type for hysterics to me."

She clings to that voice in her head, even if it's not real. Because this time she's not the one in trouble with a life-threatening injury. Tony is upstairs, Tony is hurt. And Tony has no one to come up and save him but her, so she has to get her shit together.

She inhales deeply through her hand, then breathes out, reaches down to rip a strip of fabric from the bottom of her gown to serve as a bandana against the dust.

And then she shifts carefully, looking around for safe ground, then sighs and pulls her heels from her feet. If she's going to be any use she'll have to do better than stilettos. "Can anyone hear me?" Pepper calls as she gingerly steps around the rubble she can see. The bottom of her feet are tender and even being cautious, it feels like she's walking on a meat tenderizer.

To her left about thirty feet away there's a man about her size, but like Mary, he's no longer in a world where he'll hear anyone answer. His shoes are about the same size as hers, and she chews her lip, and then she moves in closer to crouch beside him cautiously. A hand to his neck confirms a complete lack of pulse, and the odd angle of his neck explains pretty clearly why he's dead.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I promise when I find out who you are I will put you in full Gucci fashion for your funeral." She shivers a little bit hysterically as she forces herself to unlace the man's Calvin Klines and transfer both them and his socks onto her own feet.

"Regrets are for the living, Potts. We'll bury the dead when this is through." She climbs to her feet at she makes her way down the length of the room, hand cupped above her eyes to protect them as best as she can. Her pupils have finally adjusted to the lower light enough that she can actually tell where she is and make an approximate guess as to what actually happened.

It looks like the supports holding up one third of the upstairs ballroom actually collapsed. She can see up into the upper room when she gets nearer the far wall. There are people up there moving. But then they had more chance of survival than those immediately below. She's not sure herself how she survived, she must have fallen at least fifteen feet. The fact that she's not currently in pieces is nothing short of a miracle.

"Can anyone up there hear me?" she yells. And though she can hear movement she gets no immediate answer.

Pepper Potts, for the time being at least, is on her own.


End file.
